


all our yesterdays

by bison_daycare



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien-centric, Angst, Daddy Issues, F/M, Identity Reveal, So much angst, adrien is a bundle of repressed feelings and awkward rainbows, im so sorry, oh well, this is going to be so inaccurate with the origin episode coming out, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 21:45:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6131120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bison_daycare/pseuds/bison_daycare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's getting used to this pretending thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Why do I hurt the people I love? I’ve been in an angsty mood lately, and so then this happened. I have no excuses. Only apologies.

He's six and he's singing.

His mother- the center of his secluded world- is there and she's humming through her smile. Her eyes that look _so much_ like his own are narrowed from the grin and he can feel his chest lighten at the sight.

It's _their_ song and he could sing it in his sleep. The words are gentle and the melody soothing and he thinks this is when he’s happiest.

-

He's nine and it’s family night.

Father’s home and has no prior obligations to detract from their time together. And it's selfish but Adrien keeps looking at the phone as if _daring_ it to interrupt these precious moments.  

He knows Gabriel Agreste can be harsh but he looks at his wife with so much affection and he rests his large hand gently atop Adrien’s mop of blonde hair and Adrien is _certain_ his father loves him, too.

Tomorrow when Father's once again behind the wall that is his steel desk he’ll still be holding onto these moments, anxiously waiting for the next rainy day when his parents let him win at whatever game he chooses to play.  

-

He's fifteen and he wonders if he's holding her back.

He knows he’s been given this gift for a reason but he also knows he can’t live up to her potential. He always gets stuck and she has to save him and he think it might be best if he wasn’t around to drag her down.

Then he thinks about what would happen if he’s _not_ and he decides to stick around just a little bit longer.

-

He's eight and he just had his first modeling gig.

He’s eager to please but also eager to leave and at his age that is a toxic combination.

So when they put that weird powder on his face he squirms through his coughing and when they put him in the suit that makes him itch he can't stay natural enough to get a shot.

When he gets home his father is speaking to him in a way that made him wish he'd just _scream_ and he's crying and all he wants to do is escape to someplace where the world will never find him.

His mother arrives just in time to see him alone in his room shaking into his folded arms and he can see she shares his pain. And it _hurts_ because all he wants to do is make her smile in that way that assures him he is loved and alright and everything’s okay.

She leads him down to the empty kitchen that has dough and cheese and sauce on the counter and he's confused but then he's laughing as he loads on whatever strikes his childlike fancy.

It's supposed to be a pizza but none of the ingredients go together and it's quite a sight to behold. Regardless he's laughing and Mother’s laughing and they eat every single bite.

-

He's fourteen and it's the first time he's used his miraculous.

He's running from building to building and it's overwhelming but it’s _liberating._ There’s wind in his messy hair and his eyes are sharper than before and it’s like he’s seeing everything for the first time.

He's acting in a way he knows would earn _Adrien_ a scolding but it's okay because he's _Chat Noir_ and _he_ gets to chose who that is.

The world hasn’t looked this bright since he was twelve and-

He doesn’t want to think about that.

-

He's fifteen and he thinks this is what it's like to have a best friend.

He’s new and he’s nice but he's still separate from his peers. They no doubt know him through his father and to his vast dismay he thinks that intimidates them.

But the gangly guy who sits next to him in class goes out of his way to say hi to him and suddenly they're eating lunch together and talking about their lives and Adrien didn't realize how much he needed that until now.

He hopes Nino doesn't disappear, too.

-

He's twelve and his father hasn't looked at him in weeks.

He wonders if it's the paranoia talking but Adrien swears his father blames him for her sudden departure.

He just wants his family back.

-

He's thirteen and he's getting better at this modeling thing.

His homeschooled classes have moved to fit the photoshoot’s schedule and though he'd rather be working with his tutor he doesn't complain.

He can't deny it's because every time he does well his father looks at him with something akin to approval and he _craves_ that.

-

He's fourteen and a floating cat is telling him he's a superhero.

It's so _ridiculous_ that Adrien can't help the hysterical laughter from bubbling to the surface and he’s clutching his stomach because he thinks he's finally lost it. He wipes a stray tear from his cheek and tries to steady his breathing and expects to be alone once more.

But the _thing_ is still there and even after he pinches himself it doesn't move and actually it's looking _increasingly_ unimpressed with him by the minute.

Then he’s scared because he _knows_ he's lost it. Especially when he feels something awfully close hope gnawing at the back of his mind.

Now the cat’s demanding cheese.

-

He's ten and his father is smiling.

He doesn’t do that often but every time he does Adrien feels something close to relief.

The man is always tense and always detached and always _intense_ and that can’t be good for him.

It reminds him his father has feelings and though he keeps them sealed in a tight box they’re there and his mother assures him he feels things as solidly as Adrien himself.

And though he’d be loathe to admit it, Gabriel Agreste is only human.

-

He's fourteen and he's getting used to this whole superhero-thing.

He's standing by the Eiffel Tower when he sees a flash of red and black from the corner of his leather mask. The figure stalls, revealing a girl about his age with the same look of empowered confidence. Then something clicks, either with him or Plagg, and he knows he’s been looking for her before he actually knew it himself.

It doesn't take him long to be in awe of her.

She's strong and she's smart and she's so unafraid of this world he almost doesn't feel worthy of her company.

Then he's saying things he never thought he'd be able to and acting out in way he knows _Adrien_ would never dare and he _loves_ it.

She rolls her eyes but she's smiling and that feels like a victory.

-

He’s ten and he’s watching his mother tend the garden.

She does this often, and he knows it soothes her because the lines between her eyebrows aren’t as potent and she looks younger than usual.

He takes her smile for granted and he doesn't know it because he's _so_ young and that makes him foolish.

-

He's fifteen and it's the first time he's meeting Marinette as Chat and he's surprised.

The usually awkwardly endearing girl is smart and she's strong but she's still soft in a way that makes him anxious and it's like he's seeing her for the first time.

He's running to save Chloè but his thoughts remain on Marinette as he sprints and he wonders why she’s never like that with him in day to day life. He wonders if maybe she just doesn't like Adrien too much.

The thought bothers him far more than he'd care to admit.

-

  
He’s five and he thinks he has horrible luck.

He trips getting out of bed in the morning only to stub his toe on his oversized wardrobe. The outfit Nathalie laid out the night before ended up having a hole in the top so he had to sit there while she found something else, absentmindedly picking at his comforter as he waited with as much patience he could muster. By the time he gets to the kitchen table his breakfast is chilled and his orange juice is warm but he doesn’t want to seem like he’s complaining so he stays silent. Worst of all, he forgot his favorite toy in his father’s study, and when he goes to get it he spills coffee all over his father’s new designs.

He doesn’t get reprimanded a lot but when he does it’s _bad_ and he knows he must do better.

_He has to do better._

-

He's twelve and she's still his world but he's not so sure he's hers anymore.

Those eyes that look so much like his no longer sparkle in the way that makes him sure that everything is okay. He catches her staring out the window as she drums her filed nails on the oak table and she’s here but she’s _not_. Her mind is somewhere he can’t follow and he tries not to acknowledge it makes him nervous.

He's getting used to this pretending thing.

-

He's fourteen and _he's going to school._

He's been waiting for this moment all his life and he's nervous and his legs won't stop shaking but he doesn't care because _he's going to school._

He doesn't know what made his father finally agree but he doesn't want to push it by asking. And even though Plagg signifies bad luck he wonders if maybe Ladybug’s rubbing off on him enough to cancel it out this one time.

As he stands in front of what will soon be his class he gives his best smile and hopes that this is the start of something good.

-

He’s sixteen and he thinks he’s in love.

Except it’s not the same love and that _kills_ him. His head is filled with thoughts of the unassuming girl with a heart the size of her eyes and even larger dreams and he wonders what it would mean if he’s _wrong_. He wonders what it would mean if she’s not the same girl who stole his heart two years ago like stealing the breath right out of his lungs.

But then he tells himself it doesn’t matter. Because Ladybug is in a different world from this and his and she always disappears but Marinette is _there_ and she's _always_ there and he needs something _solid_ for once.

He’s always been good at fooling himself.

-

He's twelve and his world is shattering before his eyes.

He woke up to an empty home and a note on his bedside table that says she loves him.

He's desperate as he runs to her room and the stillness _scares_ him. It feels as helplessly clinical as the rest of his home and that is _wrong wrong wrong._

He spends the rest of the day hiding beneath the safety of his comforter, hoping when he wakes up it’ll all just be some terrible dream.

-

He's thirteen and he's doing everything he can to get by.

He's started fencing and Chinese on top of his already rigorous piano studies, and he _swears_ his father is doing this on purpose. Adrien doesn't factor in the hours he spends on his academic work and then his increasingly common photoshoots because he knows his head will explode.

He tries not to let it get to him. His time has never been his own and he’s trying to accept that his lot in life is one of isolation.

But he’s so _lonely._

-

He's sixteen and _he has to get to her in time._

Hawkmoth is getting more and more dangerous and his chosen are getting stronger and stronger and Chat is worried.

But then the villain is rushing towards her and he knows she wasn't expecting it but _he just has to get to her in time oh god._

He is able to knock her out of the way but not before she's hit in the side and _yeah, that's going to leave a mark._

He can finally feel the tension leave his shoulders because _it's okay she's here she's alive she's not leaving you._

-

He's fourteen and he just learned what an akuma is.

He sees all the anger and the jealousy and the loneliness of the victims and he _feels_ for them and he guess that makes him a good hero. He doesn't want them to become slaves to their despair and though he thinks he can't compete with Ladybug he knows he has to do his part.

He tries not to think about how easy it would be for Hawkmoth to target him, too.

-

He's sixteen and Marinette is limping.

He's had his suspicions for a while now but he's tried not to dwell on them out of respect for her but _Marinette_ is _limping._

He has flashbacks to the other night when he thought he lost her and he can't pretend anymore.

_He needs to tell her._

-

He’s fifteen but he’s not and he feels like he’s twelve.

He’s dreaming of _that night_ and he sees his Mother’s silhouette as she walks away and he’s trying to chase her but _he can’t reach her in time._

He wakes up in a cold sweat and he’s breathing heavy and _it’s okay he’s fifteen he's fifteen he's fifteen._

He still feels like he’s twelve.

-

He's sixteen and this is harder than he thought.

He thinks she doesn't like _Adrien_ so he's been seeing her as _Chat_ and now things are worse.

He thinks if he gets close to her this way she'll be herself around _Adrien_ when she discovers the inevitable but now she’s _avoiding_ Adrien and he _swears_ he sees guilt shining in those clear blue eyes every time he sees her without the mask.

Which doesn’t make sense because _he’s_ lying to her and yet somehow it’s even stickier than he imagined.

But he can’t stop. She pulls him back like a cat to yarn and he’s so tangled he can’t claw his way out.

He doesn’t even know if he wants to, anymore.

-

He’s fourteen and it’s the first time he’s meeting the girl with the eyes so bright he isn’t certain he should be looking directly at them.

She’s stuttering and she’s blushing but she’s _kind_ and she goes out of her way to make him feel welcome. He thinks the rose in her cheeks is sweet and strange as it is her nerves help calm his own.

He can’t help but place a hand on her shoulder and he doesn’t even have to fake the warmth in his smile as he tells her how happy he is to meet her.

He’s normally bad with names but for some reason _Marinette_ stays with him like a song that whispers sweetly in the back of his mind.

-

He’s ten and he’s meeting the mayor and his daughter.

The girl is immediately smitten with him and his mother is quick to tease him on this.

It doesn’t _bother_ him but still he remains polite and detached because he doesn’t know how else to handle the attention.

Later he tells his mother she’s the most important woman in his life and as long as he has her he doesn’t need any others.

-

He’s fifteen and he’s at the museum.

Plagg mentioned something about the Egyptian hieroglyphics and it’s so _rare_ for the kwami to care about anything other than his stomach that Adrien can’t help but be curious.

He spends the better part of the trip grumbling to the cat about wasting his time but then he catches a glimpse of what appears to be a past ladybug and everything clicks.

He sees the black cat standing close to her side and he’s glad to see he’s always been the knight to her lady.

-

He's sixteen and he's kissing her and he can't breathe.

He prays to whatever deity will listen that Marinette won’t notice how his hands are shaking or his knees are buckling and he's seeing stars through the shadow of his mask.

He curses his gloves because all he wants to do is feel her skin against his as he cradles her face in his palms.

He knows she'd be mad if she knew what he was thinking but he's so worried he will break her. She seems so fragile as she wraps her arms around his waist he almost can't believe what wonders he knows she's capable of.

It takes every ounce of his self control to pull away and he rests his forehead against hers and just breathes her in and he doesn't know what he did to deserve this.

The guilt sets in as his their heavy breaths intertwine and he can’t stop thinking about how her lips felt against his and how he can still feel the shadow of her caress and through it all he can't help but feel like he's lying to her.

He knows _he needs to tell her_ so with resolve he looks into those eyes that remind him of cloudless days and freedom and he can’t bring himself to regret it as he seals his fate.

_“Plagg, release.”_

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's seventeen and once again his world is spinning faster than he can take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY LOOK WHO DECIDED TO UPDATE. 
> 
> ...9 months later but y'know, inspiration is a fickle thing. 
> 
> Literally, all of you are so outrageously wonderful I didn't think it was right to leave this alone. So when I hit 300+ kudos I really wanted to add some more to this little story. 
> 
> So here you go - another chapter full of angst and something resembling character development! (Side note: why do I always hurt him? Poor thing...)

 

He’s sixteen and she hasn’t spoken to him in days. 

He tries to approach her at school but she’s seemingly glued herself to her best friend’s side. It’s nothing new but it’s extreme enough that even  _ Alya _ can’t help but question the behavior. But Marinette just laughs and the sound is so  _ off _ it gives him goosebumps because  _ that’s not it.  _ Her laugh is the reverberation of everything he  _ wants  _ to be not everything he  _ is _ \- this flimsy, inauthentic mirror of satisfaction. 

After the final bell rings, signaling the end of the day, she runs, evading questions by making excuses. He knows it’s a flimsy vindication but he can’t bring himself to stop her. 

When she doesn’t show up for their nightly rounds is when he knows he has to do something,  _ anything _ , to make up for his recklessness.

He can’t read her gaze during those few, precious moments that he catches her staring his way, but it’s nothing like he’s ever seen from her. Her fumbling charm is replaced by something he can’t -  _ won't  _ \- fully comprehend. If he had to guess it’d be confusion and isolation and betrayal and he doesn’t know how to take that.

She's always been the one person to see the good in him, someone he’s never particularly tried to impress but has never failed to greet him with a fondness he thrives on. 

He isn’t totally sure when it happened but she’s a major part of his world and he can’t bear to waste another part of his heart. 

-

He’s twelve and he decides he likes the rain. 

The overcast sky compliments the trickling droplets, composing a symphony just beyond the pane of his window. He listens to the quiet _ tap tap tap _ against the glass with muted fascination, tracing the patterns of the tears as they merge together and consequently break apart. 

Everything seems cool and calm and as he thinks of the melancholy peace that accompanies this weather his lips quirk upwards. His fingers reach out to touch the chilled glass, tracing over the designs and he makes a game out of trying to anticipate where they’re going.

There’s something beautiful about the way the droplets find each other, forming into one strong, stable bead. He wonders if that’s what people are like - two lonely souls that eventually come together and create something whole. 

The bead trails it’s way  _ down down down  _ until it disappears beneath the windowpane. He’s almost sad to see it go. 

-

He’s sixteen and it’s before the mess and he’s  _ desperate _ to get close to her. 

He’s running the streets and jumping between roofs and the feeling is as liberating as that first time but he’s still heavy. Because he can't just close his eyes to feel the wind without seeing her face and he  _ shouldn’t _ be dwelling on it but he  _ is. _

As it happens, his consciousness is louder than his logic and suddenly he’s at the bakery. She’s sitting on the mezzanine looking at the stars, sketchbook in hand and fiddling with the design of what appears to be a jacket collar. 

She's so focused, with her brows furrowed and her lip between her teeth and her pencil scratching furiously against the canvas and he knows he should turn back while he still can. 

Then he’s recalling all the times they’ve interacted at school and how she’s decorated in the hues of uncertainty towards him and he’s overcome with the need to  _ fix _ it. 

So he lands on her balcony with all the grace his powers bestow him as he strives to be debonair - because being comically suave is far better than being sincerely uninteresting. 

She calls him silly and it makes him grin, taking up the invitation for what it’s worth as he jumps onto the terrace railing, eyeing her from beneath his mask and the way the moonlight reflects off her porcelain skin. His breath hitches - it’s giving her an ethereal quality that he just wants to burn into his memory. 

They’re talking about the world and their lives and he’s saying everything he can without giving himself away. And though he has to hold back he’s still more himself than he’s been in years and he doesn’t think she realizes that these moments are so  _ desperately precious _ to both the hero and the man. 

She ends up yawning in the midst of his story and before he knows it she’s leaning against his shoulder, half asleep and looking so damn  _ beautiful  _ his heart’s in his throat. 

He carries her to her bed, carefully wrapping her blankets around her lithe frame just in time for his ring to start that cursed knell. 

He stokes her cheek with one gloved hand and reluctantly pulls away, tearing from her room but knowing he’ll be back soon. 

-

He’s ten and all he can hear are screams.

His parents have been going at it for the better part of the hour and though it takes a lot to get Gabriel Agreste to raise his voice but his fury is palpable.

His mother is no pushover and she’s meeting him blow for blow, her words like individual jabs as she does everything she can to disparage her husband.

It’s one of their more frenzied arguments and as he lays in his room, pulling a pillow over his head in a vain attempt to block out their bellows.

It continues for hours and if Adrien had to choose, he’d say this was the first time he realized how _achingly_ lonely he is.

-

He’s still sixteen but she’s yelling and he doesn’t know how to make it better. 

Their relationship has been reduced to a comical game of cat and mouse, and he’s not so sure he’s the feline as much as the rodent, endlessly curious and suicidal in its fascination with what could very well be its downfall. 

But when he thinks of how her lips felt against his and the way her chiming laughter echoes in his heart he  _ knows  _ he can’t just leave things the way they are. 

So he transforms against Plagg’s recommendation and takes off into the night, running the familiar stretch to her home. He lets his feet carry him, trusting them to know the way. He’s made this trek a thousand times. 

He sees she’s awake and he’d say he’s lucky if he didn’t already know he’s cursed with eternal misfortune. He very nearly turns around -entertaining the idea of going back to his luxuriously dispassionate room and drowning himself in the toxic combination of mind-numbing television and self-loathing - but a steady part of him knows that if he doesn’t confront her _ now _ he’ll never be strong enough to do so.

He drops down onto her balcony, knuckles rapping against the glass, heavy-hearted and armed with only raw feelings and a sizeable amount of regret. She jumps, head whirling around and immediately on the offensive. 

Her eyes - god, he’s  _ dreamed  _ about that shade of blue _ so many times _ \- are wide with surprise as she runs to the door, tearing it open as she tucks her sweater closer to her pajama-clad frame.

She’s edging on frantic as she asks why he’s here and he  _ almost _ laughs. He’s been asking himself that since he left his house. 

So he’s honest, and he can’t decide if that’s the smartest path but it’s the only one he sees. He’s so  _ done  _ with lying to her and dancing around the issue and he just wants things to be back to how they were.

And something in that makes her  _ lose it. _ She’s yelling and shaking her head and he’s hanging on her every frantic word. She says how she felt so _ guilty _ like she was lying to  _ Adrien  _ and lying to  _ Chat  _ and at first he doesn’t understand but then he  _ does.  _

All of a sudden it makes so _ much sense _ and he can't even help but pull her into his arms. She fights him at first but he transforms back into Adrien and then she’s clinging to him, too. And he's muttering over and over about how sorry he is and how he never wanted to hurt her and though she lied so did he _ so many times  _ but mostly to himself.

He tells her he thought she didn’t like Adrien and he feels so  _ stupid _ for not knowing her feelings. And she laughs - and it’s real and it’s  _ so beautiful _ \- because she thought it was so  _ painfully obvious  _ and maybe it was but there is  _ nothing _ in this world he is better at than denial. 

It’s a rapid torrent of emotion but he suddenly can’t _ bear it  _ anymore so he kisses her, lips dancing against hers in a sincere gesture of pure adoration and this time he can feel her with his own hands and it’s everything he’s wanted and so,  _ so _ much more.

-

He’s five and he can’t sleep.

He tosses and turns and even though his bed is cozy something is  _ off _ and he just can’t get comfortable. Then his stomach rumbles and he remembers that he was too busy playing some game to actually eat dinner. 

His mother is away visiting relatives he’s never seen and he misses her  _ so much _ it leaves a physical ache in his bones, but that also means she wasn’t there to force him to sit down to a family meal.

With little else to do he gets up, wrapping a thin blanket around his bony frame and making the trek downstairs. His house is dark and though he’s all grown up and brave he still ends up running half the way. 

He’s surprised to see the light is already on in the kitchen and he wonders if the monster he’s  _ sure _ lives under his bed is already in there, waiting, ready to snap him up when he least expects it. 

He peeks around the corner, tentative but unprepared to see his father in his robe and staring absently at the refrigerator. 

He gasps, drawing the attention of the older man who, surprisingly, smiles down at him. He gives his son a wry sort of grin, absently noting how helpless they are without his wife’s presence. 

They end up ordering take out and watching some show on the plasma until they’re so tired they have to drag themselves up the steps.

-

He’s fifteen and Ladybug is jealous. 

He doesn’t know it at the time, but the way she looks at the fox-girl is nothing short of volatile. 

And he doesn’t _ get _ it because Ladybug is known for her valiance but something about this girl is making her lose her cool. 

He tries not to overthink. It never does him any good.

-

He’s sixteen and for the first time in his life he feels like he doesn’t have to  _ try. _

Things are just so  _ easy  _ with Marinette that he’s just waiting for everything to crumble beneath him. With her he’s not  _ Chat Noir _ the superhero nor is he  _ Adrien Agreste _ the model, he’s just  _ Adrien _ and everything that entails. 

She listens when he talks and laughs when he tells lame jokes, teasing him without thinking twice and he can’t come up with the best way to tell her how much it means to him.

-

He’s thirteen and it’s been a year. 

It’s been one long, tedious,  _ agonizing _ year since he woke up to nothing but a note on his bedside table and the overwhelming feeling of isolation.

But he’s been studying and practicing and modeling and doing everything he possibly can to please his father. 

He’s striving _ , fiercely,  _ to better himself. Because somewhere in the mind that’s not yet jaded enough to know better he thinks that, maybe, if he does everything he can to become someone worthy, she’ll come back. 

But today he can’t focus and all he wants to do is let the tears fall, something he’s tried to repress for months because he has to be firm. He wants to let himself  _ feel  _ everything he’s spent so much time avoiding. 

He goes home, eyes a darker shade of green than their typical illuminance, and though he’s expecting silence, all he can hear is the muffled sound of sobs. Alarmed, he follows the sound, sneaking over to the living room and peeking around the corner. 

His heart is in his throat because Gabriel Agreste is there, looking at a picture Adrien knows contains their wedding portrait, designer glasses thrown on the table and he rubs at reddened eyes. 

It’s times like these where Adrien finds himself at a loss, wondering what it is he could possibly do to comfort the man who refuses to admit that he has any measure of vulnerability in his steel encased mind. 

Still, he calls out to him, watching as his father jumps, caught off guard. He expects the usually stony response, for his father to withdraw into himself, or even a certain measure of anger. So Adrien can’t help but gape when he lets out a resigned sigh, gesturing for his son to join him on the plush cushion. 

They sit together in silence and though it’s not  _ comfortable _ it’s  _ companionable _ , and it’s enough to assure Adrien that Gabriel Agreste is indeed human.

-

He’s seventeen and  _ once again _ his world is spinning faster than his heart can take. 

He’s always known his father isn’t  _ good _ but he never expected anything like  _ this.  _

And he can’t help but wonder  _ why why why. _ Why would he be so heartless? Why would he  _ force _ a kwami into his service? Why would he thrive on the terror of innocent children? Why would he hide this? 

There are other questions loitering in the back of his mind, selfish in their nature but  _ so crucial _ they won’t go away - Why didn’t he notice? Why couldn’t he be a better son?  _ Why isn’t he ever good enough? _

Chat moves and he’s on him, fighting with everything he’s got and merciless in his pursuit. He knows his emotions are getting the best of him but for once he  _ doesn’t care. _

He’s not interested in keeping himself in check in front of this man any longer and it’s like the tempest he’s been fighting for most of his life has finally been released. There’s a barrage of attacks that are dodged until there’s one that’s  _ not _ and Hawkmoth is set reeling. 

His father -  _ he's Hawkmoth he's Hawkmoth it's okay he's Hawkmoth  _ \- leaves a sizable dent in a nearby building, and Chat tries not to cringe when can’t help but imagine his father’s face beneath the mask.

He’s seeing the world in disarray as image after image appears before him -  _ six-year-old Adrien laughing with his father, his father behind the wall of his desk, his mother’s face, eight-year-old Adrien on a shoot, his father’s glower, Hawkmoth-  _

The thoughts won’t leave him alone and then suddenly he’s  _ livid.  _ He picks the man up by his collar and he’s screaming and he doesn’t know what he’s saying but he’s nothing short of  _ hysterical _ . 

He hears Ladybug -  _ Marinette _ \- yelling for him to  _ please, stop, Adrien, don’t _ \- but  _ he doesn’t care.  _

_ He wants, he wants-  _

He doesn’t know what he wants.

-

He’s thirteen and he’s at a funeral. 

The Mayor’s wife had been sick for a while and though the battle was long it was also rough. She passed in her sleep, unmoving but more at peace than she had been for a long while. Nathalie says that’s a blessing but still he’s not so sure he’d want his nightmares to be the last thing he experiences in this world. 

The mayor’s daughter is putting on a brave face, he can recognize false contentment like the notes on his sheet music, and he can’t help but feel for her. 

He knows what it’s like to lose a mother, after all. 

So he walks up to her and he gives her a hug, telling her he understands and assuring her that though the days are heavy and the nights are empty the world will keep on turning. 

She cries into his shoulder and he thinks that may be the last time he saw her do something with any measure of sincerity.

-

He’s fifteen and he’s looking in the mirror. 

He doesn’t do it often, but there are moments when he finds himself inspecting his appearance with a clinical eye - the same way he would gaze at an essay he’s just beginning to edit and polish.

He takes in the high cheekbones that most models kill for, the lofty lashes that leave shadows across the natural tan of his smooth skin. His eyes are angled, sharp, but bright, something that’s only emphasized when he takes on the form of his alter-ego. 

He’s overwhelmed by how much he looks like  _ her _ and he’s disturbed that even though she’d gone he has to see her every time he glimpses his reflection.

-

He’s five and he’s bleeding. 

He’s told he’s inherently impulsive and though he doesn’t understand what that means he knows he has to stop.

But he’s  _ so young _ and he’s just trying to have fun until suddenly he’s falling. He tries to land on his feet but he can’t and he can smell the blood before he sees it. 

He ended up hitting his head on the edge of a table and his mother’s crying and his father’s looking at him with displeasure and that hurts  _ far  _ more than the pounding in his head.

-

He’s seventeen and it’s raining and he’s doing everything he can not to drown.

His father - _ he's Hawkmoth he's Hawkmoth dammit he's Hawkmoth _ \- is being taken into custody and all he can do is watch. His eyes are as lifeless as he feels and it’s too much, so he runs. 

He’s always been good at that.

He isn’t surprised to see Marinette approaching him hours later, his alcove by the Eiffel Tower doing nothing to conceal himself from her knowing eyes. He isn’t even sure what to say so he just flashes the ghost of a smile. 

She sees through it. She always has. 

She’s tentative, approaching him like she would a stray, worried he could take off at any moment. He wants to be angry but the concern isn’t without merit and she’s done  _ absolutely nothing _ to warrant his aggression. 

So he does the only other thing he can think of - he storms over to her, wrapping his arms around her and burying his head in her shoulder. His frame is shuddering from his sobs and he can’t even control the sounds that wrack through his body 

She doesn’t miss a beat in returning the gesture, stroking his hair and kissing his forehead and it helps until he  _ pays attention. _ Because her shoulders are shaking too and there’s a wet spot on the crown of his head from her tears and it  _ kills him  _ to know she shares his pain. 

All he wants is to  _ protect her _ even if it’s from himself and he wants to run but  _ good god he just wants to be selfish for once in his life. _

So he stays in her arms until he physically can’t cry anymore. He’s back to being  _ Adrien _ and he feels  _ so vulnerable _ as she grasps his hand. He doesn’t have the energy to protest when she drags him through the rain and to the bakery and though they’re soaking wet and numb from the tears they fall asleep, holding each other as they whisper words of comfort into the night air.

-

He’s seventeen and things are unusually peaceful. 

He’s laying there with Marinette, her soft hair tickling his chin and she rests her head on his shoulder. He kisses her forehead, chastely, and smiles to himself. 

These are the moments he likes best, he thinks. When the world seems to stop spinning and all that matters is the way she feels in his arms. She toys with a button on his shirt and he laughs at something she says, probably at his expense but without any hint of malice. 

It’s not much, but really, it’s everything.

-

He’s eighteen and he’s looking at the shadow of the man he’s spent his entire life running from. 

It took him the better part of a year but he’s here and for once he’s unafraid. And though there is a part of him that will  _ always _ be that little boy he’s  _ stronger _ now and he’s ready to prove it. 

Marinette offers to join him, always the driving force behind his pseudo-valence, and though the idea is a blanket he knows this is something he must do alone. 

Adrien isn’t certain what he expects to see when they finally bring his father out, but it’s certainly not this.

He looks so  _ normal _ it’s disconcerting, and though there are dark circles under his eyes and his clothes are replaced by the uniform jumpsuit, he’s still  _ Gabriel Agreste _ . He’s still nothing but hollow pride and ruthless cunning, dulled by his time in a cell but that does nothing to affect the way he carries himself - like a king amongst peasants. 

They do nothing but stare for what could have been hours. He knows his father is watching him as closely as he always has, no doubt noticing the way Adrien’s carelessly let his hair grow out passed what he’d consider acceptable, or how his clothes aren’t pressed to perfection, or how he’s gotten a small tattoo of a ladybug on the inside of his wrist.

He’s done living as a shell. 

He’s being informed that his visit is nearly over, gone before it’s really begun, and though there was no life-altering moment Adrien can’t help but feel like it’s progress. The silence isn’t as crushing as it once was, feeling like two walls slowly approaching from either side, but rather it’s tentative, unsettled. 

He doesn’t know exactly _ when  _ he’ll be back but he knows he will be  _ soon. _ And he thinks that counts for something. 


End file.
